


Home for Christmas

by moonmayhem



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dating, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonmayhem/pseuds/moonmayhem
Summary: A soft, sleepy Christmas morning with your boyfriend ❤️
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Kudos: 34





	Home for Christmas

Waking up to Akaashi’s sleeping face is a perfect Christmas morning. His hair is fluffy like freshly fallen snow, his skin is as warm as a low crackling fire, and up close his lips look only a little lighter than holly berries.

With a featherlight kiss to his brow, you sneak out of bed to prepare breakfast. This is the second Christmas you and Keiji have spent together, and the second Christmas he has slept over at your apartment after the two of you stayed up most of the night wrapping gifts for one another in opposite rooms.

_“Are you done yet?” He would call across the apartment with a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re taking an awfully long time!”_

_A giggle would bubble out of your chest as you rushed to put the last bits of tape on the sides of the box. It was a struggle when the stickiness wrapped around your finger and tangled up your otherwise smooth operation_

_”Keiji, give me a little longer! Not everyone can be a magician with their gift wrapping. I’ve been doing this for years and have never been good at it.”_

_He waited until you finished to come up behind you, arms wrapped tight around your waist as he pressed his cheek to yours._

_“It’s nearly 2am.” He breathed against your skin._

_“Your point?”_

_“I’m sleepy and my eyes hurt. We should get to bed so we can wake up at a decent time to open presents tomorrow.”_

_You turned in his arms and gave a chaste kiss. “Maybe you should’ve worn your glasses, hm?”_

_Keiji cuddled into your neck while your fingers ran through his hair. “I didn’t expect wrapping gifts to take so long.”_

_“You got me too much.”_

_“_ I _did? You took longer to wrap.”_

_You pinched his ear. “Don’t use my gift wrapping flaw to your advantage!”_

Most mornings with Keiji are spent quietly like this; only the sounds of utensils in pans, the pouring of creamer into coffee, and the flipping of paper fill the silence. He’s usually nose deep in his editorial work as you wake up around him and get ready for your day, while he’s already made you a plate of food and set out a cup of coffee.

The pancakes are slowly cooking inside their pan, covered with the lid, so they steam at a perfect height to maintain their jiggly structure. Strawberries are simmering in a small pot sweetened with sugar on another to make a nice syrup for the pancakes. There’s coffee bubbling and brewing in the machine, the smell permeating throughout your home.

It’s the coffee that wakes him up. You hear the gentle padding of bare feet leaving the bedroom and entering the kitchen. A warm body presses itself into your back as he hunches down slightly to rest his forehead against your shoulder.

“You got up before me,” he mutters with a sleep-heavy voice. “Smells good.”

You reach up to rub at the hair tickling your neck. “Christmas pancakes with strawberry sauce.”

Keiji makes a sound of approval before sneaking his hands underneath your shirt and settling them on your stomach.

“Christmas,” he repeats the word like he’s trying to make his brain wake up. “Christmas,” he says again.

“Yes, today is Christmas.” You giggle.

His fingers put the slightest bit of pressure on your skin before he wraps his arms entirely around your middle.

“Merry Christmas.” He rocks the two of you back and forth, only stopping when you have to transfer the pancakes to plates. “Merry, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, baby. Go sit down, I’ll bring you a plate with some coffee. Sound good?”

“Very.”

Keiji is like a toddler when he’s just waking up. His dark blue eyes are bleary and not sure of their surroundings. It takes a bit longer for his brain to catch up to his body, and the way he clings to you is downright criminally adorable.

“Here you go, Keiji.” You set a plate down in front of him, and next to it, a cup of coffee, just how he likes. “Go ahead and start eating.”

While you prepare your own plate, there isn’t the familiar sound of metal utensils hitting ceramic. You think that maybe Akaashi is waiting for you to sit down with him, so you move a bit quicker and finally settle in next to him with your own food.

When you start to eat, you expect him to do the same, but he doesn’t budge.

“Keiji? You can start eating, you know. Don’t let it get cold!”

“Marry me,” he says, still staring at the food in front of him.

You nearly choke on your pancake. “Pardon?”

His brain must kick start because he’s looking at you with wide, slightly terrified eyes as he stutters.

“I, what I meant to say was—, not that I _don’t_ want to marry you, I…” Akaashi halts to allow himself time to breathe, and then asks, “Do you want to move in together?”

“Sure?”

“Are you not positive?”

“Oh, yes—I mean, no! Yes? Wait.” You put down your fork and knife, and take a sip of your coffee. “What I mean is that, yes, I’m sure. I want to move in together.”

Relief floods over his features. “Great.”

“Can I ask what brought that on?”

He gestures at the table and at you with gentle eyes and a soft smile. “This; waking up to you, eating breakfast with you, spending the holidays in each other’s company. I want it all.”

“All the time?”

“Every single day.”

“We don’t even have to open up the other gifts,” You smile. “I guess joint Christmas gifts aren’t all that bad.”

Keiji chuckles. “You’re my favorite gift.”

A blush warms your cheeks. “And _you’re_ incredibly cheesy!”

Keiji leans over and kisses your cheek with a bit of strawberry syrup on his lips. “Better get used to it.”

“It’ll take a Christmas miracle to be immune to your charm, Keiji.”


End file.
